


The Descent into Hell is Easy.

by soriksorik



Category: The Order (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Tragedy, Comfort/Angst, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, M/M, Multi, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:34:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24943924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soriksorik/pseuds/soriksorik
Summary: When unexpected visitors come to the Temple of The Hermetic Order of the Blue Rose, Hamish gets a very painful surprise from the past.
Relationships: Cassie/Hamish Duke, Hamish Duke/Jack Morton, Hamish Duke/Original Character(s), Hamish Duke/Original Female Character(s), Hamish Duke/Vera Stone, Lilith Bathory/Hamish Duke, Lilith Bathory/Randall Carpio/Hamish Duke/Jack Morton, Randall Carpio/Hamish Duke, Randall Carpio/Hamish Duke/Jack Morton
Comments: 6
Kudos: 58





	1. Prologue.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was inspired by this random idea I got a few days ago after making a few Hamish x Cassie videos (links below) and I just decided to try it out and see how this goes.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> VIDEO 1: https://youtu.be/50r4CdyOOfE  
> VIDEO 2: https://www.instagram.com/p/CB1YZOdIPay/

He hadn’t wanted to do it. He had not wanted to even consider touching her things without her permission, but what permission was there to be had now? There was nothing apart from the silence, the fading scent of her perfume and the memories that twisted a knife into his heart every time he brought them forth. He did not know what was worse, remembering her or the fear that he would eventually forget she had ever existed.

Was that fear irrational? Perhaps, but it was very real and that was one of the reasons Hamish had refrained from packing up her things. The other was, of course, that bringing himself to do it required willpower he had not had. He hadn’t even stepped into their shared bedroom until today, preferring to sleep anywhere else. He couldn’t face that empty bed and the faint smell of her still lingering on the sheets.

Even now, Hamish regretted bringing up those cardboard boxes that all of her things were meant to go into. It felt too real now. It has been well over three months since the… accident, for lack of better word, and yet he had still maintained a foolish hope that somehow, Cassie would return. He had hoped that Timber being drawn back to her locker was nothing more than a misunderstanding and that she was still alive. He hoped that this was all just a sick joke and that whoever was playing it would realize that they had gone too far and give her back to him. After all, there were still so many things left unsaid between them, and so many memories they had yet to make… there was so much he had wanted with her, so much he had hoped for and now… now he was never going to have it.

Hamish would never get to argue with her over which pizza topping is better. He would never get to hear her laugh, a sound that filled the whole room without her even trying, warming him right to his core. He would never be woken up by the fact that she had, once again, hoarded all the covers, and have to fight her for them before, eventually, giving up and just spooning her to get some warmth back into his bones. He would never again have her wake up the next morning, realize what she had done, and apologize ardently for ‘almost freezing him to death’, although that was a rather big exaggeration. He would never be scolded by her for drinking a cocktail instead of coffee to wake himself, and she would never again tell him that the excuse of “it’s happy hour somewhere, dear” was not applicable.

His fingers dug into the material of the blouse he was holding, feeling the soft silk against the rougher flesh of his fingers like her own gentle caress. He remembered this particular piece of clothing quite clearly, it was her favorite blouse, one she wore as often as she could without it seeming like she had no other clothes, which was far from the truth. She had so many clothes that Hamish wondered how she remembered everything she owned.

He folded it neatly, resting it on top of the pile of her other blouses. Cassie would have hated for him to simply throw everything together without making it look presentable, first.

Moving on to the next item of clothing, Hamish picked up a burgundy scarf, and his lips curled at the corners immediately. He brought the item closer, breathing it in. He swore there still was that faint smell of coffee on it, the one he had accidentally spilled on her upon their first meeting. In full honesty, that incident had been entirely her fault for not looking where she was going, but he had not taken the time to blame her for it. When their eyes had met, everything else had slipped away. He remembered feeling his annoyance at her destroying his perfectly good cup just slipping away when his icy-blue eyes met her darker ones. It had helped that she had insisted on buying him another cup and they had ended up spending all morning together, immersed in one another’s company so much that they almost forgot about the rest of the world and their obligations to it.

“You do not have all day to stare at it,” came a familiar voice from behind Hamish and it forced him to whirl around with such intensity that he almost knocked himself backwards. Not enough time had passed for him to forget that voice, to mistake it for anything else. He immediately knew who it was, and his heart skipped a happy beat.

“Cassie…?” He muttered in disbelief, taking a step towards her. She was perched up on the vanity, admiring her nails. Her curls were pulled into a messy bun and she still wore that dress she had worn the day she left the den, never to return again.

“I’m not really here, baby. I am just part of your imagination… a figment of your tortured psyche.”

His psyche was tortured, indeed. He could not forgive himself for what had happened. If he had been with her that day, if he had gone with her, then she would still be alive, she would still be here with him. He would not be having to pack up all her things, he would not be having to relieve all their memories and just have to accept the fact that those memories are the only ones he would have. They would never make more. They could never make more.

And now, she was here to haunt him and remind him of his failure. He had promised to protect her and look at what a splendid job he had done. Maybe that was why she was here now and not resting somewhere in a heavenly meadow, waiting for him to join her. Maybe she wasn’t at peace because he could not keep his promise.

“It wasn’t your fault, Hamish. Don’t you dare think that, my love. There was nothing you could have done. Nothing at all.”

Cassie was in front of him now, her hand coming to rest on his cheek and he  _ swore _ that he could feel her touch, feel the warmth of her body next to his. Of course, that was impossible and yet this seemed so real that all Hamish wanted to do was pull her into his embrace and keep her there, never letting her go.

“I promised you that I would never let anything bad happen to you and I failed you completely.” He muttered, averting his gaze. He couldn’t bear to look at her. He was too ashamed of himself. “I should have been with you. I should have been there…”

“No, Hamish,” Cassie whispered, tilting her head so that she could seek out his gaze. “If you had been with me, you would have been dead, too, and I could not bear that. Think of Randall, think of the Knights. You must survive and keep their legacy alive.”

Hamish shook his head, “how? How am I going to do this without you? I know nothing. You always had all the answers.”

“Remember what I told you,” she muttered, tilting his head so that Hamish would look at her. There was no point trying to escape her gaze, he knew that she would seek him out no matter how hard he tried. “All you need is in those journals.”

It’s true. She could always be found with one of the books from the reliquary, making notes, drinking in the information. The journals’ pages were practically worn down by how much she had flicked through them. He would have to bind them once again to keep them in place, or better yet, rewrite them in their entirety.

“And find a new champion for Timber.”

At that, Hamish shook his head with such fierceness that he swore he could feel his brain shake with it.

“No… no one is taking that hide — ”

“Hamish, find a new champion for Timber. She deserves it.” Cassie insisted, resting her other hand over his cheek so that she could cup his face between them both. “Please… for me.”

“She is yours… I can’t let someone else wear her.” Hamish muttered, his voice broken, defeated. He couldn’t even begin to imagine who could be worthy of Cassie’s hide.

“The hides do not belong to us. They belong to everyone… to whichever champion they choose. They must be placed in action if there is even the smallest possibility of them being attracted to a champion. Find Timber a new champion. Let her live on and do what I couldn’t.”

Hamish’s blue eyes burned into her darker ones and he felt tears collecting at the rims, threatening to spill. He could not do this without her. He could not even think about it. She had been his everything, she had been  _ their _ everything and now…

“Long the road, short the life.” Her voice came out as nothing short of a whisper but she was calm, calmer than he had ever seen her. It is like she was not even bothered by the fact that she was dead, that she was gone… that she could not experience the beauty of this life anymore. Cassie had always been strangely alright with dying and yet  _ seeing _ just how calm she was about it made Hamish want to scream.

“I will find Timber a new champion,” he finally blurted out, attempting to blink away the tears that were about to spill. He couldn’t cry, he wouldn’t. “I swear it.”

Cassie’s lips curled into a gentle smile and her hands dropped to rest at her sides, her gaze running over his features before she simply sighed.

“I love you, Hamish Duke. Remember that. Hold onto it and  _ live _ .”

Hamish was about to say something, about to reach out for her, but just as his hand came up to try and catch onto her waist, she disappeared, leaving him alone in a room full of memories.


	2. Aftermath.

It had been a few weeks now since the recent events had unfolded and life had been hectic for everyone, to say the least. Jack was brooding, understanding considering he lost someone he had loved rather deeply, and trying to stay as far away from Gabrielle as he could. Randall was happy about the fact that they had finally gotten Lilith back, despite the evident changes in their friend’s behavior, and was attempting to help Gabrielle settle into her life as a werewolf. Lilith was trying to settle in, or at least, so it seemed, and rekindle whatever it was that Nicole and her had. Make-up for lost time, as Nicole described it. However, Lilith still had that strange fixation on going back ‘home’, even though that  _ place _ had never been her ‘home’, and it slipped in every now-and-then, causing quite a few conflicts. Gabrielle was trying to come to terms with what she had done, or with what Midnight had done, to be exact. It was a task that was a little more difficult than what she might have anticipated.

Hamish was… Hamish was trying to juggle his relationship with Vera, his friendship with the Knights, his duty to the Order and his desire to help Lilith and his friends overcome their difficulties. He was kinda slacking on most of those, understandable, considering there was only one Hamish and there were a little too-many people that needed his attention.

Vera relied on him for a lot of things now, magic-related. Ever since Alyssa took her powers away, she hasn’t been the same. Of course, when you lose something that makes you who you are and that has been a part of your life for almost as long as you can remember, it takes a toll. It breaks up, it shapes you into something so different from what you were. He was trying to prevent that, trying to ensure that she would not fall apart, even if he had to pick up the tiniest of pieces every day. Vera was strong, to say the least. She had survived a lot of things, he knew that. There was a weight on her shoulders from all that pain that very few could carry with such elegance and grace, but most importantly, with such strength. He knew what she had told him, which was not all-that-much. He knew about her daughter. Hamish understood that was the most impactful memory she had, and the most painful one of them all. He could not even begin to imagine what it would feel like to lose such an intimate part of you. He knew loss, he knew what it felt like when the love of your life was ripped from you, but it was not exactly the same as losing a child. Children are  _ literally _ parts of you and he could not imagine what it felt like to bury that.

They had managed to keep the other disciples from finding out about Vera’s magic. The only ones that knew anything about it were the Knights. Vera had masked having Hamish around every second of every day as her attempting to teach her right-hand-man everything she possibly could, but even Hamish knew that sooner or later people would start talking, more than they already did. Everyone in Temple spoke of their relationship, and although both of them denied it, there was no use. Hamish did not mind, as long as  _ other _ questions did not arise. People can talk about his personal life all they would like, he really did not have much to hide, as long as no one began doubting Vera’s capabilities. Magic or not, she was still one of the smartest women he had ever met, and he knew that she was the perfect Grand Magus. She was wise, she was compassionate and she  _ truly _ cared for the good of the Order and all of its disciples.

The Order’s main goal had been stopping the magic tourists left behind after the demise of both Salvador and Alyssa. Although the leaders of the organization had died, their beliefs did not die with them and more and more Praxis members were practicing the  _ wrong _ type of magic. It was almost overwhelming and there were times were Hamish worried they would not be able to deal with them and that everything that they had fought for so hard would, ultimately, all go to Hell. Of course, he kept his head and remained as optimistic as he could, if not for himself, then for Vera and everyone else at Temple.

Today had been a quiet day. Praxis had not shown their heads and thus, there was no fuss at Temple. The disciples were all in their classes, tending to their studies. Those that managed to juggle their lives as practitioners and as students were getting on with practicing some of their spells.

Vera and Hamish were tucked away in the Office. They had been scavenging the books for any information, spell or potion on how they could get Vera’s magic back. So far, their search had been unsuccessful, and although they were not giving up, he could see that Vera’s hope was dwindling away. He attempted to cheer her up as much as he could, but he knew that at some point he would run out of ideas and she would succumb to the poisonous thoughts within her mind. If that happened… well… a lot of things would go wrong, not only for Vera and Hamish, but for the entire magical society that was part of the Hermetic Order of the Blue Rose. They would be losing a Temple Magus  _ and _ a Grand Magus and Vera had noted that never in history has there been so many changes in power and uprisings within the Order.

“And nothing—” Vera groaned, slamming another book shut and pushing herself away from her desk, allowing the chair to hit the fireplace behind her. “Another empty book.”

Hamish looked up from what he had been reading, his icy blue eyes trained on the woman. She looked defeated, her brown eyes worrying over the wooden surface that was occupied by stacks of books, papers and other utensils.

“There are more things we can look in—”

Vera’s head snapped towards Hamish, and she cut him off, her voice ice cold and he had to note that it cut into a part of him that Hamish had not felt in a long time. “For what? There is nothing here on how to get my magic back. If one of you had eaten that stupid girl’s heart, then perhaps I would have gotten it back without having to go through all of  _ this _ , but no… Jack Morton had to protect that traitor’s body.”

Hamish’s voice remained cool, although he felt the knife that had been stuck into his heart ever since Cassie’s death twist just a little, giving him a painful sting. “Vera… he loved her. You know that.”

The brunette threw her hands up, exasperated, pushing herself up to her feet so that she could begin pacing in front of her desk.

“Yes, but she is  _ dead _ .  _ Nothing _ can bring her back. That kind of magic is forbidden, and even if it wasn’t, the dead are better left alone and in  _ their own _ realm, Hamish. Nothing good has ever come from raising someone who has died and disturbing their peace.  _ Nothing _ .”

Hamish sighed, rising to his feet, and he was about to respond to the female when a loud knock disturbed their peace. Vera stopped her pacing and Hamish straightened his posture, adjusting his attire before he flicked his hand, allowing the door to swing open.

Behind it stood a girl. Early twenties. Dark hair. Piercing blue eyes. She offered the two an apologetic smile before directing her gaze at Vera alone.

“Forgive the intrusion, Grand Magus, but we have visitors.”

Vera raised an eyebrow, and Hamish did the same. Visitors? They had not been expecting anyone.

“Who are they?” The Grand Magus inquired, in her usual authoritative tone.

“They did not say,” the girl muttered, hunching over a little, as if she was attempting to become invisible or shrink to a size that would make her hard to spot. “Only said that they would speak to you, alone.”

Hamish’s gaze flicked to Vera and she looked back towards him, before a small sigh slipped past her lips. Running her hands over the front of her blouse and skirt to smooth down any wrinkles, she took a few steps towards the door before speaking again.

“Well then, let us meet our uninvited guests.”


	3. Uninvited.

Vera, Hamish and the disciple made their way towards the main area of the Temple, where all the spells and sacrifices took place. Vera was far from pleased with these intruders, that much Hamish knew. It was clear the way she strode towards where they were waiting for her, and in the set of her shoulders, and also the way she was muttering under her breath. Werewolf hearing had its perks, and Hamish swore he had never realized just how much of a sailor’s mouth this woman really had.

When Vera stopped, rather abruptly at that, Hamish almost bumped into her but managed to stop himself before they both made fools of themselves. His eyes landed on a group of hooded figures standing by the main entrance. They were wearing black robes, similar to the ones the Order wore, but their masks were not shaped like animals’ skulls. They were golden, human features carved into them. There was gold embroidery all over their robes, too, if you looked closely.

A shiver ran down Hamish’s spine and his gaze darted to Vera, who looked visibly alarmed. She knew who they were, and she knew what this was. He could see it in her eyes, and she was afraid, to say the least. If Vera was afraid, Hamish knew that he should be, too.

“By the Power placed in us by the First Grand Magus of The Hermetic Order of the Blue Rose, we, The Order of the Silent Brothers and the Iron Sisters, hereby relieve you of your duties, Grand Magus Vera Stone. You shall be pending investigation and until further notice, are banned from the Temple.”

Vera was quiet. Her breath had hitched in her throat and her gaze was jumping from one masked face to the other. To a trained eye, it was evident that a small tremble had set into her hands, and she looked on the verge of tears. This had meant everything to her, and Hamish knew that losing it would destroy her.

“On what grounds?” He bellowed, turning his gaze back to the intruders. He had not truly realized he had spoken until the words had left his lips and when they did, he almost regretted it.

The masked figures all turned to him in unison, and this time, the person that spoke was not the one who had uttered the words initially. The voice was female, as opposed to the first speaker, and to Hamish it sounded so oddly familiar… so painfully dear to his soul… he could not quite put a finger to it.

“On the questionable actions taken to deal with the threat to the Magical Peace, by the hands of the previous Grand Magus, Edward Coventry, and the current threat in the face of Praxis, as well as fraternizing with the werewolves  _ without _ official permission. And to add to all of that, for the _complete_ and _utter_ disregard for the Gnostic Council.”

Vera’s gaze flicked to Hamish, who met her gaze immediately, before both turning back to face their visitors.

“With all due respect, the werewolves were created for our defense. They are the Knights of the Hermetic Order of the Blue Rose. We have every right to join arms with them.”

Although Vera’s tone seemed to be level and cool, he could hear the chocked-up undertones of it and Hamish’s heart skipped a beat, sinking ever so slightly in his chest. Look at her. This woman was just told that she was losing her life’s work, after losing the thing that defined and mattered to her most, and despite it all she was still attempting to defend the  _ Knights _ , despite how much they had wronged her, with the theft and going behind her back and… whatever.

“And yet, they have not stood with us for quite some time. Enough for them to have rogue, to have created their own agenda. They are no longer part of this Order and thus, they shall not be treated as one of  _ us _ .” The masked woman continued, her voice unwavering.

Hamish kept trying to put a finger on it, to understand where he had heard it before. He  _ had _ heard it before, he was more than certain of it, and he hated how he could not place his finger on it. Why was it so familiar?

“It has been decided, Vera Stone. This Temple is now under the control and watchful eye of the Order of the Silent Brothers and the Iron Sisters. The new Temple Magus shall be Sister Cleophas. She will take over your duties as Temple Magus whilst Brother Isaiah shall take over those of Grand Magus.” The first speaker announced, extending his hands to the two masked forms standing next to him.

Two hooded figures stepped forwards at those words. Hamish could swear one of them was the female voice that had spoken before. When they were standing before them, they both removed their masks, their hoods falling back immediately.

Vera’s gaze ran over the two people assigned to take over her duties. They were much younger than her, but she knew that just because they looked young, did not mean that they  _ were _ indeed young. This Collective had some of the oldest and most powerful magic in their possession, and it worked in a lot of strange ways.

Besides her, Hamish froze. The moment one of the hooded figures revealed their face, Hamish could not look away. The hair. Those eyes. The curl of those lips.

Now he understood why that voice had sounded so familiar. Now he knew what it was that made him hurt so deep in his soul.

How could it—

“Cassie?”


	4. Cassie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a quick one because I am in exams but I also don't want to keep you guys waiting for too long... 
> 
> Leave me your comments and opinions. I would love to hear from you!

Hamish. Hamish. Hamish.

She kept repeating it in her head when she woke up, mumbling it with the last of her strength, trying to fight back the excruciating pain that was coursing through her entire body.

Hamish.

She needed to fight for Hamish, but who  _ was _ Hamish? Who was  _ she _ ?

Cassie faded in and out of consciousness, losing herself in the darkness more often than what she would have liked. She knew that she was being moved. There were voices all around her, muttering something that she could not quite decipher, something that she could not quite understand.

She felt warm, but at the same time, she felt inexplicably cold. It was a confusing sensation, and one that caused her to want to scream in agony, but there was no sound leaving her lips. Nothing. She couldn’t open her mouth, she couldn’t move any part of her body. She was paralyzed, just floating in the never ending darkness.

When Cassie had finally woken up, she was in a place she did not know, surrounded by people she had never met before and with absolutely no recollection of herself or what had happened. Jeremy, the eldest of all the people that had been looming over her when she had woken up, had been kind enough to explain to her what had happened and to introduce her to her new circumstances. He, also, taught her how to will her mind to remember what it had forgotten, and told her not to despair if everything did not come back immediately. She had to give it time. The mind was a strange creation, no one knew how it worked and even magic could not always aid her in seeking out the answers she needed from it.

Jeremy had taught her everything she knew to this day, made her who she was after her accident, shaped her into the woman that everyone among the Order knew. The Brothers and Sisters all envied her, but they also all looked up to her. She was the best. She was the smartest. She was the beloved.

With time, her mind, too, began healing and she started remembering what she had considered lost to her. First, she remembered her name, Cassandra Baker. Slowly, she started remembering things like her family, her childhood, her first pet…

Cassie did not know everything about herself, there were still blanks in her mind, but today she can proudly say that she knows most of the things about herself and she is happy with the progress she has made.

It was difficult, however, living in an environment where no one had known her previously. She had always longed for some connection from the past, someone who might be able to fill in the blanks she had not been able to unlock and maybe urge her mind onto mending itself a little faster, but no one knew Cassie. Everyone knew Sister Cleophas, but not Cassandra Baker, and the woman had to admit that it was one of the most painful notions to exist.

Which was why she had been so taken aback when the man with the most beautiful blue eyes she had ever seen had said her name. It stirred something in her, a sense of familiarity and belonging. He  _ knew _ her, or at least, he had  _ known _ her before her accident, before she had been found by The Order of the Silent Brothers and the Iron Sisters. They had known each other, and a part of her longed to find out more, but she had been trained to always keep her composure and with the situation at hand, Cassie knew she could not give into whim, to feeling. They would have time to speak later, she judged. What was important now was her duty to protect the magical peace, and that was what she was going to do, it was what she was here for.

“Only speak when spoken to, Acolyte. I am your Temple Magus, for the time being, and you will refer to me as so,” she had responded, her voice cool and unwavering, almost as if the fact that he had known her name and had  _ clearly _ recognized her had not phased Cassie at all, which was entirely untrue.

She watched as his face twisted into a momentary grimace of pain before he brought up his walls, an armor of protection so similar to her own, and simply nodded his head and straightened his shoulders. Some part of Cassie, a part she had not felt awaken before, wanted to reach out to him and to tuck the loose strand of his blond hair behind his ear. Some part of her wanted to tell him that it was going to be okay and that she was here now, and she was never going to leave. The pads of her fingers ached to feel his skin against them, which caused the fists Cassie carefully curled with her hands, her gaze averting from the man.

Who was she? How did he know her? And why did Cassie feel the need to be with him, to protect him and to free him of his pain? And there was a lot of pain, she could feel it, she could sense it radiating into her and it tore at her soul, broke her heart into the smallest of pieces.


	5. Cassie?

“ _ Cassie _ ?” Vera was less than pleased, and that was to say the least. Hamish did not know what had made her more upset, the fact that The Order of the Silent Brothers and the Iron Sisters had waltzed in and taken over everyone she had worked for in just seconds, or the fact that Hamish clearly  _ knew _ one of the intruders. “Who the  _ hell _ is Cassie?”

Hamish hadn’t said a word on their way to her house. He did not know what to say. His mind was racing, trying to assimilate the information he had just received. It was clearly been her, he would never mistake that woman anywhere. He knew her better than he knew himself, something that he had taken a lot of pride in previously.

How was she here?  _ Why _ did she not seek him out during all these years? Did she  _ really _ not know who he was?

Her expression had been blank when their eyes had met. She seemed like she had no idea who Hamish was and it hurt. It hurt deeper than what he would have liked to admit. He wanted to scream, to break something, to let Tundra out and run until his legs could not carry him anymore.

Tundra was aching within, too. He could feel the itch quite clearly,  _ feel _ the werewolf’s need to be let out and assimilate what had happened on his own terms, but Hamish was also perfectly aware that he could not let him do it. Vera needed him, and Hamish needed to take his mind off of Cassie in whatever way he could. He could not allow himself to process what had happened, not just yet, anyway. All these years of building his walls, the years of him armoring himself against the pain and heartbreak. If he let his feelings out now, he knew that he would break  _ completely _ and that was unacceptable. People needed him.  _ Vera _ needed him. His  _ friends _ needed him. He couldn’t allow himself to be weak, not right now.

Of course, it should have been expected that Vera would want to talk about Cassie. How could she not? She had just taken over Vera’s position, pushed her off of her throne within seconds and without so much as a blink of an eye.

What scared him was that these people, these people whose ranks Cassie was a part of, had the power to do  _ this _ , to replace even the  _ Grand Magus _ . Who was The Order of the Silent Brothers and the Iron Sisters and  _ why _ had Vera never mentioned them to him before?

“My girlfriend,” Hamish muttered under his breath and when he noticed that Vera had quit her pacing in front of him, looked up to meet her questioning gaze, one of her perfectly sculpted eyebrows raised skywards. “My  _ dead _ girlfriend, or at least… I thought she was dead.”

“Yes, well, she clearly isn’t,” the older woman retorted before she resumed her pacing, hands on her hips, the clicking of the heels silenced by the carpet. “What is she doing with  _ them _ ?”

Yes, what  _ was _ Cassie doing with them? She had always despised magic. She had been totally devoted to the cause, the cause of the Knights… or at least the one they thought they had before Vera opened their eyes to the truth. That did not sit right with Hamish either… ‘The Knight of the Blue Rose’... he still could not quite process that.

“Who are they?” He questioned, raising his head to seek out Vera’s worried gaze.

She was trying to look everywhere but at him, her eyes frantically searching the room they were in.

“They are the most powerful magical society,” she clarified, finally stopping so that she could lower herself in the seat opposite him. “They are the secret keepers of the Order and they are also tasked with keeping the magical peace. If they are here, it means we have done a  _ very _ bad job.”

Vera looked  _ scared _ , if Hamish could say so himself. More scared than when Rogwan paid them a visit, and she had been  _ terrified _ . Whatever was going through her head, it wasn’t good, and Hamish had no idea how to soothe her. He had no idea how to deal with his own emotions, let alone understand hers.

“How is she alive?”

He had spoken to her over the Necrophone, and he knew that the voice that he heard had been hers. If he had managed to speak to her through the Necrophone, then she  _ had _ to be dead. There was no other way they could have communicated. That object only permits you to speak to the dead, he knew that for a fact.

Hamish hadn’t realized he had said it out loud, but judging by Vera’s sigh, she had heard him.

“She isn’t  _ alive _ precisely, but she isn’t dead, either.” The brunette explained, crossing one leg over the other as she leaned back in her seat. “She is  _ undead _ .”

Hamish’s blue eyes shot up to meet her gaze and he raised an eyebrow.  _ Undead _ ? Like Zombies…?

“Part of her soul is trapped in the Realm of the Dead,” the other continued, waving her hand in the air for emphasis, “whilst the other is tethered to an object on the Earthly plain. As long as that object remains intact, she lives. It’s how the Silent Brothers and the Iron Sisters function. They can be killed, but it is extremely difficult. They live longer than humans and age must slower.”

Hamish tilted his head, not quite understanding what Vera was saying.

“They are what we call  _ vampires _ ,” the woman spat, clearly not impressed by the fact that he had not caught on on his own.

Hamish gulped visibly, his gaze averting from the female. Vampire? She was a  _ vampire _ ? His girlfriend — ex-girlfriend — drank blood to survive?

“Not in the traditional sense of things,” Vera added, almost catching onto his train of thought, but he guessed that it was a common idea running through everyone’s head when they heard the word  _ vampire _ . “They aren’t the romanticized versions of those creatures you would know from the mainstream media.”

Hamish nodded, a smirk coming over his lips, but it was emotionless and soon disappeared, his head falling into his hands.

Great. That made him feel a  _ lot _ better.


End file.
